


Yes

by TheRedWulf



Series: Stansa One Shots [36]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Fluff, Historical AU, King!Stannis, Kings & Queens, One Shot, Short & Sweet, betrothal, romantic, stansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26430376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Historical - In which Sansa meets her betrothed for the first time...Picset is viewableHERE
Relationships: Stannis Baratheon & Sansa Stark, Stannis Baratheon/Sansa Stark
Series: Stansa One Shots [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1405915
Comments: 47
Kudos: 170





	Yes

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a specific historical era for this piece, so you can pick your favorite! It definitely is not canon compliant, but I think we can all agree that canon blows... Thanks D&D *grumble* 
> 
> A reminder, this is a series where I challenge myself (and limit myself) to write 1,000 words or less vignettes. This includes multiple pairings, universes etc, and allow me to write little scene drabbles as they come to mind. From these I can develop longer one shots or multi-chaps, but really I want to challenge myself to stick to short, poignant scenes. 
> 
> I will do my best to create photo-sets for each vignette, so hopefully you enjoy those too.
> 
> As always, I don't consider myself a writer. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors. :D :P Thank you for reading!

She worried her hands, though she was holding them at her waist as her Mother had taught her, her fingers fidgeted with anxiety. She knew what this was--what this afternoon was about. She may only be a woman in the eyes of the world, but she was far from stupid.

She’d been washed, buffed, styled and dressed in the nicest gown she’d ever owned--all for this moment. 

As if conjured, the door to the library opened and a butler held it wide as the largest man she’d ever witnessed came through the door. With his golden crown atop his head, he had to duck to enter and she swallowed a lump of fear in response. 

“Miss. Stark” he greeted, his long legs carrying him to the mahogany desk in the corner. 

“Your Grace” she curtised, demurely lowering her gaze.

“You’re aware of why you’re here?” he began without preamble. 

“Yes, Your Grace.” 

“And what are your thoughts on the matter?” he raised his eyes from his desk, deep blue eyes boring through her. The impact of his physicality was nearly overwhelming.

“My--I am afraid that I do not understand” her heart was racing so quickly now that she was certain she would faint. Oh why had she let Jeyne lace her stays so tightly….

“Your thoughts, Miss. Stark?” he repeated. “I am certain that you have at least one or two on the matter of our prospective marriage.” 

“I…yes” she cleared her throat before taking a step closer. It made no sense to speak to each other from across the room, so she didn’t halt until she stood before his desk. “Why me?”

“Excuse me?” he countered. 

“Margaery Tyrell has fifty thousand pounds a year and her family controls the Reach” Sansa elaborated. “Brienne Tarth has only twenty thousand but her family controls the Sapphire mines. Daenerys Targaryen has an unending supply of dragonglass and the blood of the old Kings. And I…” 

“You?” 

“Who am I in comparison? My family is old, yes, but we are not wealthy,” she continued, shaking her head. “So I find, Your Grace, that I do not understand why you have chosen me?” He was quiet for several seconds, and then his massive shoulders rose in a deep breath as he rounded the desk to stand before her. 

“Tyrell is vapid,” he began, his voice softer than it had been just moments before. “Tarth is a boor, and the Targaryen girl is prone to bouts of madness, though her Father does his best to conceal that from becoming common knowledge.”

“Oh…”

“Regardless of these facts, however, I still would have chosen you, Sansa Stark” he added, eyes searching hers for a moment before he continued. “Your Father is a man with a sense of honor that is unmatched, and from what I can see, he has passed that on to his children. This was confirmed to me a fortnight ago during the Frey’s garden party.” 

“The garden party?” she wracked her brain trying to determine what the King was talking about but she found, in his intimidating presence, that it was difficult to keep her thoughts straight. 

“While the other ladies tittered about fashion and titles, you had snuck away” his lips twitched in an almost smile. “You were sequestered with one of the maids, teaching her the proper way to stitch so that she may please her mistress. You gave the young girl your time, which is more valuable than any currency. You were patient and, regardless of your difference in station, you showed impressive kindness.” 

“I did not realize anyone had seen” she felt her cheeks heat, surely they were a vibrant, unflattering pink by now. 

“Exactly my point, Miss. Stark” he nodded. “A Queen is far more than a crown; she requires a heart large enough to bear the burden of duty. I do not need wealth, I do not need sapphires, but I do need a woman who knows the value of human kindness.” 

“I understand,” she said after several moments, watching as he shifted closer. 

“I asked to speak with you before the announcement was made because, in all of this, I would seek your permission as well.” 

“Mine?” she gasped. 

“I would ask you, Sansa Stark, to be my Wife and my Queen,” he took her hands in his own, gently holding her fingers. It was the first time she had touched a man without her gloves on and she found that the warmth of his skin was very soothing--something she believed was only because he was so gentle. “To bear this heavy mantle of duty at my side as my partner, and help me to best serve our people.” 

She considered his proposal for several moments, her thoughts racing nearly as quickly as her heartbeat. She had never imagined that she would have an opinion in all of this--it all seemed to be settled, but before her stood the King of the Seven Kingdoms, the man who had united them and ended a horrible civil war. He stood here, offering himself to her rather than commanding her as was within his right. 

This small act of kindness and inclusion had somehow laid to rest all of her fears and uncertainties. 

“Yes, I will marry you, King Stannis Baratheon. I would be honored to be your Queen,” her voice held the weight of the confidence rushing through her being. She felt empowered--her betrothed had seen her for herself, beyond wealth and beauty, and still he had chosen her. 

“It is I who am honored” he said softly, stepping close enough that her skirts brushed his polished hessians. He moved slowly, allowing her to move away should she wish, but she leaned in to meet his lips as they descended to hers. Their kiss was achingly sweet, gentle and soft; Sansa held tightly to his hands and let herself enjoy her first moments with the man she would spend her life with.

**Author's Note:**

> The funniest part of this story is the idea that the Frey's had a garden party! *snort*
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
> @the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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